Beautiful Hurts
by MyGildedCage
Summary: It hurts to be thin, it hurts to pretend, and it hurts to smile with loose teeth. Triggering. Eventually HP/SS EATING DISORDER AND MAJOR ABUSE
1. Beautiful Hurts

"Harry I really wish you would eat something." It was the same story every day, the same argument, and the only answer ever received was always something like the following.

"I told you Hermione I am not hungry. Here does this make you happy?" Harry would usually say shoving a piece of meat angrily onto the end of his fork and consequently into his mouth. He would chew rudely for a second, swallow, and wash it down with pumpkin juice. This was usually followed with a hasty retreat from the Great Hall disguised as storming off.

Harry's feet would click hard and uneven on the stone floors as he stumbled in his usual path to the second floor and the toilet in Myrtle's bathroom. Sometimes however he just didn't make it. Either way the acid would rise in his abused throat and push past lips and teethe. Harry just couldn't keep it down.

Oh, he had tried. But over the years it got harder and harder to eat in the first few months of school. He used to try a lot harder, but what is the point when you finally get back to eating small meals and then have to starve again. It hurt less to just not eat at all. It hurt least of all when he was thin. No one wants to touch a skeleton, and Harry was going to keep it that way.

--

When Harry had been five he had asked what his cousin meant when he said girls and boys were different. His aunt had shown him. Harry hadn't asked a question at Privet Drive since. When Harry had turned ten his uncle decided to teach him a lesson about respect, starting with the belt and ending in pain. Fortunately for Harry his uncle was incurably straight, the same couldn't be said for his gym teacher.

Through all of this Harry had remained a virgin, scarred and molested, terrified of men and woman but his only hope was that the Wizarding World was different. His wish seemed to come true, Harry lived a year as a wizard and was untouched, safe and happy. He knew the illusion would eventually end.

The Wizarding World was a wondrous place, and most of the people Harry had met had been like characters from the books he had read. The one character Harry did not like upon meeting was Gilderoy Lockhart. Harry knew immediately this was not the wonderful man displayed in Witch Weekly. Something lurked beneath the surface and Harry was sure it was meant for him.

His first meeting with the man ended in bruises on his shoulders and chills down his spine. When he had found the man would be his teacher he was reminded once again of Mr. Browning the gym teacher. Except this time there would be no escape, living in the school with a man who could give detentions at will until all times of night. Harry was scared when the voices started; he was terrified for his first detention with the pompous windbag.

The man had liked Harry's soft girlish frame and often told him that his round ass was his to do with as he wanted. Harry was helpless, terrified, and hoped he would die when the man had raped him over his desk; photos of his rapist pressed into his face and ink smudging under his nose. The pain of his glasses between cheek and desk, as well as the table splintering into his boney hips were nothing in comparison to the feel of his virginity being ripped away from him in an act of violence.

Gilderoy was all about control, he liked having the Boy-Who-Lived beneath him, his age didn't matter. He was crueler than Snape ever considered being during his detentions and sweeter than Dumbledore in public. Gilderoy Lockhart was a dangerous and terrifying man. Harry hated him.

Severus Snape became a hero in Harry's eyes that year, he seemed the only other person who new what a fraud the defense teacher was. When he knocked Lockhart on his arse, Harry crowed with joy and cheered his champion on silently.

The rapes continued however, and Harry was so ashamed that he had let it happen he kept it to himself. He thought that after Lockhart obliviated himself that he could keep the secret until his death. But Harry knew it was getting too hard to think or breath without remembering. His eating habits in the last three years had changed drastically, as had his sleep and study habits. Harry had Hermione to worry about now though, she was catching on and though he knew she wouldn't get the theory right it still put a lot of stress on him.

--

Retching could be heard through the room, echoing off of dingy tile and back into Harry's ears. Heat and acid flowed up the brunette through and into the once white toilet.

"You know what Harry?" A pale figure giggled from above.

"What do you want Myrtle?" Harry pulled away from his vomiting long enough to growl over the rim of the toilet.

"You can share my toilet soon!" She squealed excitedly spinning around above the stalls.

"Fuck you" was eloquently upchucked into the water with a splash. Myrtle scowled and went back to her U-bend to sulk. Harry stood on unsteady legs leaning over and clinging to the walls of the small stall for support as he flushed the commode and wiped his mouth.

As Harry stumbled to the sink to wash his face he caught sight of his reflection in the old mirrors. Before him was a gaunt figure, pale as marble. Red streaks clung to his chin, dark gray smudges decorated the tops of his cheek bones. His skin was tight, sweaty, and cold. His hair was dull and clung to his forehead. Harry looked roughly like the living dead right down to the boney body and ripped clothing.

--

"Pop Corn…" The mumble was just loud enough for the portrait to hear him as he stumbled through into the common room, lit by only a few torches this late at night. Harry took off his shoes before climbing the stairs. He opened the door slowly and closed it softly before shuffling over to his bed. Harry changed behind his curtains and set his alarm to six in the morning before chugging half of his dreamless sleep and casting silencing charms.

--

The next morning Harry woke before dawn with a whimper coming through his sore throat. He shuffled quietly into the bathroom and flicked his wand at the torches. Bright light flooded the room and Harry was met once again by the ghost in the mirror. The boy turned away, disgusted, and walked to the last shower closing the curtain.

Pale calloused hands ghosted over bruises and sore muscles as Harry scrubbed himself red relishing in the harsh tingle of magical soap falling into reopened wounds.


	2. Hurt me Hermione

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Beautiful Hurts

Morosemordant

It hurts to be thin, it hurts to pretend, and it hurts to smile with loose teeth. Triggering. Eventually HP/SS

Morning moved slowly for Harry, his eyes fell shut and lingered on empty space. His feet shuffled as he walked and the gnawing ache in his stomach seemed to fade out for a time. His head felt clogged with uncomfortable warmth. His voice was lost in a sea of roaring children and he could never seem to answer a question before Hermione interrupted. He felt sluggish and dull.

Food was passed in front of him at lunch and he ate a bit of pudding to calm the growling and water filled the rest. He felt like dying with every bite. The mirrors in the hallway all showed his gluttony. He felt like he was positively jiggling with fat with each step. His hands were wrapped tight to his sides as he walked, mechanical, methodical to each class. Every step took every bit of concentration to look as normal as possible, but he was so tired.

So tired he felt like clawing his eyes out, the bones in his jaw hurt from smiling, chewing, laughing, clenching, from all of the pretending. His legs wanted to stumble from underneath him and all he could think about was not crying with the need to rest, just to close his bagged eyes for just a minute.

It just dragged one an don, and on it was barely lunch time now and he was close to screaming once again. Food was being piled onto his plate in mounds that would make a pig turn green.

"Ron, please tell her to leave me alone. There's no way Hagrid could eat all this stuff, let alone me."

" Hermy he has a point…"

"Ronald what did you call me!? HERMY???" She was screeching high and loud and that was the last thing Harry wanted right now. He was trying to fly under the radar not trying to get all of the school's attention.

"Really Hermy…" He was doing it on purpose now. "… that isn't the point here. Harry can't eat all that crap, I don't know if even I could right now." Then she growled, really truly growled in frustration and if the hall hadn't been paying attention before they sure were now. Harry put his head down on his arms and pushed the plate away and a breath out in a defeated angry sigh. Here it comes, he thought.

"RONALD HE IS A STICK," Shit, shit shit, thought Harry as he sat up and stared wide eyed at the idiot girl to his left "HE HASN'T EATEN IN DAYS, IF YOU HADN"T NOTICED!"

Apparently Ron hadn't noticed until just then how little his best friend had been eating in the last week. Ron's sad brown eyes looked down on the other boy. Silence followed and so did everyone else's eyes. Harry looked at his for half a second before the disgust and realization in those eyes became too much. Harry stood up to leave and nearly fell back down.

The dizziness was back.

Not now… not here.

Harry screwed his eye tight trying to push the burning blackness from his eyes. He shook his head hard trying to shake the blurred groggy feeling free. He pushed off from the table and walked quickly from the room. Harry felt betrayed, he knew Hermione had noticed but he hoped she would have enough sense to keep it to her self.

It wasn't their fucking business, they didn't know him. How dare she do that? She didn't know what it was like, neither of them did with their fucking normal families. Normal fucking lives, both of them. HOW DARE THEY?

He had eaten. He had. Harry knew he had to have eaten something. Some bread here, a biscuit here or there? He wasn't NOT eating. He wasn't a stick, he was a fat ass, couldn't they see it? Harry walked to his next class and sat behind the worn wooden table. Nicks decorated it's surface, he pushed his finger tips into the grain of the wood, memorizing the table he had sat behind three years ago. He could remember it, the splinters under this left elbow his right rubbed itchy against parchment and photos. His hands cramped, they were cramping now. He was writing, HE was there writing. Sitting next to Harry. Warm knees brushing making Harry nauseous. Same words, nearly identical messages. But the hand writing was different. To Bethesda Hobscrogg…

Warm, wet tears came from clenched eyes. His hands were breaking into the wood of the table. His ink pot came from his bag and slammed into the table surface and tipped over. Ink…

Ink had covered his nose and cheek. All the next day he had had Bethesda's name etched onto his cheek in reverse. Ron and the twins had had a great laugh. Harry hadn't eaten that day either, claiming Ron's rude comment about what this Bethesda must have been doing, had made him lose his appetite. Really it had been those cold blue eyes watching his ass walk into the Great Hall.

Harry was disturbed by the swishing of heavy fabric to his right. He looked up and saw black.

"Mr. Potter, I suggest you straighten up before class begins, I shall be filling in today." Harry nearly had a heart attack. Snape had never been so cordial before.

"Yes sir." Harry bowed his head and wiped furiously at the treacherous tears clinging to his stubble. "Thank you Professor."

"What ever for Mr. Potter?" The left brow was raised in curiosity but the smirk belied the truth. Snape had seen, but what Harry couldn't figure was why hadn't this been used again him. A swish of an ebony wand cleared the ink.


	3. Guilty Glamour

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

**Beautiful Hurts**

It hurts to be thin, it hurts to pretend, and it hurts to smile with loose teeth. Triggering. Eventually HP/SS

* * *

Harry sat slumped against the entrance to the stall for several minutes; sweat poured down his face as he struggled to slow his breathing. Heaves shook his body as he tried to sit stil. There wasn't anything left in his stomach to dispose of but his body was trying it's best to purge. Harry struggled to his knees and flushed the muck down the drain.

He finally made his way to his feet and turned around; trying not to wonder what had gotten all over his slacks from the bathroom floor. Harry flicked the lock open and staggered to the sink. Cold water sloshed from hands to face to sink basin. He scrubbed at his eyes and after smelling his breath decided a good rinse was in order. His teethe screamed in outrage at the icy water and Harry quickly spit it out.

The gums were red and swollen and his teeth felt gritty against his tongue. Harry heaved again, foam fell down the drain and he rinsed his mouth with slightly warmer water this time. He pulled his wand and cast a general cleansing charm on his trousers and straightened his shirt and robes. Harry pulled a piece of gum from his pocket and chewed it thoughtfully. He looked like hell, he was aware of this. HE wasn't blind. At this point the thought of eating anything turned his stomach.

He ran a wet hand through his dark hair and then cleaned off his glasses. A thought suddenly occurred to him after he pocketed his wand. He could do magic. There was in fact a library, no a world, full of books and spells he could learn to help.

Harry checked his clothing in the mirror again and left the restroom at a brisk pace, keeping his eyes trained in front of himself, he didn't want to run into anyone. He made a left at the end of the corridor and a quick right into the stair well. He strode over to the stair case he needed and walked down quickly before the castle could move them. His heels clicked on the landing and he headed down several more corridors to the library. Large oak doors stood open to the quit warmly lit room and Harry entered before walking up to Madam Pince.

"Good afternoon," He said quietly between the stacks of books on her desk "I was wondering where I might find your collection of cosmetic spells?" She looked at him hard and pointed to her right and crooked her finger to indicate that it was in the back of that section.

"Thank you." She nodded and pointed to the sign on the desk which asked for silence. Harry nodded meekly.

* * *

Harry left the library with a small worried frown on his lips. The only glamours he had found were superficial, easily removed. He did however find a spell to lengthen his hair, and a foundation spell to cover up the bags under his eyes and some of the bruising. He might as well change his hair while he was at it; maybe it would halt some of the comparison to his father.

Apparently witches never wanted to plump their frame; they merely want it to appear smaller. Harry sighed, it was going to be hard to hide some things from Hermione, but he would give it a shot.

Harry walked slowly up to the dormitory; his notebook was full of things he was dying to try out. Maybe it would help his self image, or at the very least provide a little distraction from the rest of his appearance.

Harry stopped in his dorm room and moved to the bathroom with his book and wand and a little bit of hope blooming in his chest. He locked the door behind him, thankful for the free periods after lunch on Fridays. He pulled the wand up to his face and reread the instructions carefully, practicing the movements a couple of times before grimacing and casting the spell. His skin looked porcelain smooth and white. No scrapes or bruising nor any blemishes showed through. He inspected his face from every angle before being satisfied with the results.

The second spell on his list was for his hair, it was unruly and curled at the edges and he just wanted it long enough where he could make it work for him. The book had said it would grow you hair up to a meter and that you could use the simple barber charms to get the desired length. So Harry again practiced the movements and incantations and held his breath as he cast the strange charm on his hair.

It tingled, it burned, and it tugged at his scalp and grew very heavy. It was long and wavy, down to his buttocks, Harry quickly performed a few of the barber charms and had it layered. He kept it long, but the striking thing about the length is how it changed in color, it was no longer purely black, it had a reddish sheen and highlights along the front.

He took a brush through it and pulled it back into a messy braid to keep it out of his way while he looked into the rest of the charms. There was one that looked hopeful. It would make his clothes sit better on his frame, now all he needed were better clothes. Hogsmead was a possibility, he could go that Saturday.

Harry cast one more spell, this one he took the longest on learning, especially because the book had said it took time and the results were not immediate. He opened his eyes wide and felt the burn of magic run first through his lens and cornea, then deeper and deeper until he was forced to close his eyes. The burn remained when he opened them and he could see the subtle sparks of magic as it continued to run through his eyes.

When he was finished, Harry had expected to feel better about his looks and perhaps feel less inclined to starve, but he simply felt hollow. He could appreciate the improvements but he was still ugly in his own eyes. He still felt like a hippo, even though he could see the bones underneath his clothing. The hair was nice, the face was no longer purpled and his body looked less like an oil spill, but he grabbed at his stomach as he bent over the sink to empty the bile from his stomach.

He could feel hands on him; he could feel hot breath on his neck. He couldn't get it out of his head.

Casting a cleansing charm on his mouth and rinsing the sink Harry sighed and grabbed his books and wand before exiting the bathroom. It had helped, and it hadn't helped. He liked the hair, it was manageable now, but it made him more feminine and all he could think of was how Lockhart would have reacted to it. He was disappointed he hadn't killed the bastard when he had the chance.

* * *

The boy walked to his bed tiredly, he seemed to be constantly tired anymore, and laid down atop the coverlets. He pulled the curtains closed and fell asleep. It was only three in the afternoon, but maybe if he slept he wouldn't have to deal with anymore bullshit that day. He didn't wake until four o'clock the next morning.

The room was eerily silent save the occasional grunt from Seamus or snore from Neville as Harry snuck out of the room. He sat for a long time in the common room before making his way out of the portrait and down to the prefect's bath room. He just needed a good soak and the showers in his dorm were just not what he wanted. It was late enough that he wasn't breaking a curfew but early enough that no one else should have been out on a Saturday morning.

Harry spoke the password and was happy to see the mermaid was absent from her painting and the room was still dark. He cast about the spells for the torches lining the wall and walked to the faucets turning on steaming hot water and black ooze which would make the water smell like earth and leather. One of the few manly soaps the bathroom possessed, he didn't feel like smelling like a pine forest and the myriad of flowery scents merely turned his stomach.

He didn't need that, his throat was sore and his sinuses were stinging already. The headaches he had been getting were more frequent as well; he would simply have to drink more water.

The pool was filled faster than expected and he discarded his stinking clothes from the day before and called a house elf to bring a fresh change from his dorm. He sank deep into the water sitting on one of the benches at the edge. He unbraided his hair and placed the tie on the edge to his right. He inhaled deeply and ran a hand through his hair before wetting it and applying his shampoo.

He rinsed and applied conditioner before he set about scrubbing the rest of his body. He noticed more hair on his legs, in fact was startled by the hair all over his body, like long peach fuzz. He grabbed his wand off of the edge of the pool and cast a shaving charm at various parts of his body sickened by the hair. He never could stand body hair.

Harry scrubbed himself until he was tired again and leaned back against the rim, his long hair floating around him in the water. He sagged with exhaustion and inhaled again, deep and slow, enjoying the steam in his lungs and the uncomfortable heat. He pulled his arm up and realized it was red from the water. He smiled grimly and settled in to enjoy the warmth for a few minutes before he had to get out and start his day.

Drifting in and out of consciousness he smelled the leather and his mind wandered. A silken voice echoed through his mind. He felt himself harden at the thoughts; he was both repulsed and enthralled by the experience. He had never before gotten hard without some effort on his part. The thought of calloused ink stained fingers stirred him, the voice wrapped around his mind no one word was understood but the voice caressed him like velvet. He shivered as he fantasized. Harry held himself loosely at first then the voice beckoned

'Harder.'

'You can do better than that.' It chastised as he pumped his cock brutally now. He wanted to vomit, he wanted to come, and he was more confused than he had ever been in his life. A whisper floated through his mind and he gave up all repulsion and followed.

'Now.' It commanded and he came, hard, his entire body bent in two as he moaned out his finish. He didn't realize whose voice he had fantasized about until the final sentence flitted through his subconscious.

'Mr. Potter, I suggest you straighten up...' Harry groaned as he finished, of course his subconscious would be against him as well. He couldn't bring himself to be upset or sickened by it as he had through all of his other experiences. He merely sighed and drained the bath before walking into the showers to clean up again.

Of course he would have a crush on someone unattainable, he reasoned. He was protecting himself from any actual sexual experiences. At least he could explain this crush away. Snape was always protecting him, saving him. He even stood up against Lockhart, and had hated the man as much as Harry himself hated Gilderoy. It only made sense, didn't it?


	4. Walking Weariness

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

**Beautiful Hurts**

It hurts to be thin, it hurts to pretend, and it hurts to smile with loose teeth. Triggering. Eventually HP/SS

Harry stood under the stream of quickly cooling water in the prefect's bathroom, he was thinking. He was not thinking. He was just staring into nothing. He was thinking about not thinking. He was trying his best to clear his head of any further thoughts on his dark eyed professor. A difficult task to be sure.

It was getting rather late in the morning, at least according to Harry's usual schedule. He never had quite gotten used to the lack of tasks before sunrise at Hogwarts. During the summers he was more than accustomed to waking before five in the morning and having half of the house cleaned up before his Uncle could wake. He had been used to taking the time to cook breakfast, the fact that it was served to him was always a little unsettling, and even more so now that he didn't have the stomach for it and the mounds on the great tables grew greater every meal.

He had an irrational fear at times that they would topple over on him and he would be forced to eat his way out. His mind was quick to wander away from thoughts of food as his stomach growled and the nausea in his head swelled. His mouth was dry as he exited the once hot shower.

He dried off on the fluffy gray towel provided by the house elf that had brought a change of clothes: trainers and a plain blue long shirt to go with his jeans. Everything was baggy and made him look like a cow when he glanced in the mirrors to reapply his glamours and brush out his hair. It tangled in the brush and came out in clumps in Harry's boney fingers. He wanted to cry, nothing was ever easy or simple was it? Couldn't it just be okay for once?

He pulled the clumps from his fingers and rolled it into a ball to throw away. It vanished as it hit the bottom of the bin. The brunette pulled his hair up into a loose braid tied with a strip of leather. He looked into the mirror again and frowned.

The young Potter gained his affects and left the room to wander about the castle for another hour until he would be allowed to go to Hogsmead. He fumbled in his pockets to pull his wand and cast a lumos to aid in his exploration. It was less exploration for Harry and more about walking until his muscles felt sore. He needed the exercise; he needed to move before he started to look like his whale of a cousin.

Up and down the stair cases and through many corridors and back again, he walked and walked for half an hour in one direction, and ran back in the other direction when his thoughts turned rotten. He just wanted to avoid everyone and everything for an hour or so, at nine he could leave to walk down to the village while everyone else took the carriages. He could feel the fat on his thigh jiggle as he ran, and it made him run harder, rubber soles slapping into the stone floors.

By eight he was breathing hard and his knees hurt as his head swam, but the other students had started filling out into the corridors and out into the courtyards to begin their sunny Saturday. Harry had been up over five hours by the time everyone else had stirred. It made him inexplicably angry. He dug his nails into his palms and walked down to the dungeons where the cool air would help him burn calories faster.

He passed the potions class and breathed in the heady scents of herb and death. It was small comforts as he kept walking slowing down to enjoy the silence of the stone foundation. A door closed to his right further down the cooridor causing him to freeze.

Severus Snape was closing the portrait to his quarters, black robes and hair nearly making him invisible in the dark halls. The only light was thrumming in Harry's hand. Snape looked up through his hair as he turned from the portrait and caught sight of the willowy boy. The lack of glasses and long hair must have startled him as he stopped and tried to place which student this was in front of him.

"Potter." He nodded finally placing the face. "Have you lost your spectacles boy? What are you doing in the dungeons?" Harry blushed and stood still looking up at his professor through loose tresses of auburn and black.

"Sorry sir, just walking. I'm sorry if I disturbed you professor." Harry stammered and turned to return to the entrance hall. His vision faded quickly in and out of focus as he walked away from the startled Potions Master. The climb up the stairwell was hell, his knees shook and his heart pounded. Harry took a small detour to the kitchens.

"Good morning Mr. Potters sir. How can Dippy be helping you again this mornings?" Dippy bowed low and Harry frowned sadly at the creature before asking for a cup of water, a cup of ice and an apple.

Harry munched on the apple happily, it was only a few calories really and would be one of the easier things to keep down, he hoped. He took a break between each bite to place the apple back down, taking him time and chewing each bite thoroughly. The ice he ate when he had finished the apple, he crushed the chips up between his teeth wincing when the cold stung the teeth taking a sip of the warm water to calm the pinging pain and soon felt very full. He made an effort to finish the water and stood slowly thanking the elves as he left the portrait.

It was going to be a long day, he would have to go with the crowd down to Hogsmead, and he was hoping he wouldn't panic again. It wasn't like he hadn't known these people the majority of his life. They were strangers, but familiar ones. He would be okay, he had to repeat this to himself. He was going to make the trip he had avoided at the first of the year. He had to get rid of any trace of the Dursley family on his person if he was going to ever be happy. The happier he was the less he had to worry about Hermione or, god forbid, Ron finding out about the less than pleasant details of his life.

He may get annoyed with them but they were still his friends and they were still children, innocent. Harry was going to do everything in his power to keep them that way. He didn't wish the knowledge he had of the world on any one. No one needed to know the sick truths Harry was now hiding behind glamours, and soon new clothing. He just hoped the clothes would come off of a rack and no one would have need to measure or fit him.

His fellow students were loaded into carts carried on by, in their view, invisible horses. Harry watched the thestrals warily and tried not to think about the end of his fifth year. Harry sneezed suddenly and was terrified to see that all thestrals eye sockets were fixated on him. He saw Ron and Hermione, and was surprised to see him help her into the buggy. He sighed and smiled shallowly as they addressed him.

"Hey Har' do you wanta come sit with us? We got an extra seat saved." Ron said half-heartedly. Harry smiled darkly, not that anyone would notice the difference.

"No I think I'll walk this morning Ron. You and Hermione have a good time though, you don't need me bringing the conversation down." Hermione frowned at him but Ron grinned, he at least had caught on to the offer for 'alone' time. Harry smiled up at them as the carriage started to sway it's way down the hill towards the village below.

"Oh, okay Harry if you think that's alright. You be careful!" Hermione shouted as they pulled out of sight.

Harry turned around to a black chest and looked up into his Potion Master's face. The light had caught his eyes just so and Harry could see that what he once thought were black eyes in the dark of the dungeons was actually a deep blue. His body shook at the proximity and scolded himself for the action.

"Mr. Potter, again we meet. Why are you not taking the carriages like you classmates?" Harry opened his mouth to explain he had wanted to walk the path down to Hogsmead, but he was quickly cut off.

"I suppose you think yourself to good for such transportation as your classmates are forced to take." Snape sneered and Harry turned pink. He looked imploringly into his teachers eyes and explained simply.

"No sir, I was merely planning on walking to the town this morning." His professor's eyes narrowed.

"I believe you have already had a walk this morning. An extensive one I believe as you had been all the way down the dungeons to my quarters. So let's try again shall we Mr. Potter?" The sneer was half hearted as he took in the lad's appearance. The striking green eyes freed from spectacles and framed in fire streaked black tresses. It was quite a change, and the sunlight hit the boys face just so.

Snape shook his head.

"I was going to walk, honestly Professor."He frowned tensely.

"Be that as it may Mr. Potter, you are a special case and as you know we cannot afford to have you traipsing through the forest unescorted. You will join me in my coach as I am chaperoning today." Harry opened his mouth. "No arguments Potter get into the carriage or stay at the castle, your choice."

Harry's jaw snapped close, and he nearly cried out as he felt the tip of one of his molars chip he turned away under the pretense of climbing into the contraption. He wiped his mouth and pulled a grain of tooth from his lips.

He had thought of returning to the castle and sneaking down later but realized Snape would know as he was chaperoning. The vehicle swayed and shifted as his professor climbed in and settled himself opposite of the Gryffindor.

Harry looked pointedly out at the woods to his left as he felt the gaze of the older man study him. He shifted uncomfortable under the gaze. Severus was surprised by the changes he had taken in. The boy was much taller than he had remembered which was surprising for as slender as the boy was. He looked at the hands settled on the boys lap and could count the bones through the top of the palms. The fingers themselves were long and thin. The nails looked raw and yellowed. He pondered what he was taking in. There were tells of a glamour in place on the boy's face, but he supposed the boy had just taken a sudden interest in him appearance, as noted by the now long hair tied back. It revealed a thin neck that looked breakable and pale and wonderfully supple.

Snape was disturbingly reminded of the fairy tale Snow White. Long black locks glimmered red in the sun, pale skin shimmering and fading to red just about the boys lips. Full and chaffed as they looked, they were compelling in a way that distressed the teacher. He had never had such thoughts about a student, not since that damned Veela girl had joined them two years previously, and those weren't really his thoughts. His magic had responded favorably to the creature as any mans would, even if his body and mind had been completely opposed to the child.

He scowled and turned away from the fragile youth to look in his travel bag. He pulled a thermos of coffee out and drank quickly; glad it was a strong batch that morning. It was a long silent ride.

When the carriage stopped suddenly at the end of the road the poor boy nearly fell out of his seat. Snape smirked, reminding himself this was the way it was supposed to be.

"Mr. Potter keep in mind, I am chaperoning this trip so be on your best behavior. I will know if you do otherwise. Do you understand?" Harry climbed down and nodded at the dark man as he straightened himself out and started to walk toward the shops. "Mr. Potter you will answer me verbally."

"Yes, I understood." Harry said tiredly.

"I'm sorry Potter what was that you said?" Snape smirked evilly as the boy sighed and tightened his fists.

"Yes, SIR, I understood SIR." Harry glared, feeling alive with his anger. He felt bad for being so rude but he wasn't about to let he Professor know that.

Harry turned away and walked down the main street of the town, eager to escape the heat of his professor's gaze. He was imagining it he was sure, but it was giving him a problem he had never had to deal with in public. He thought of the worst thing he could imagine: Filch in a bikini. He gagged briefly. That certainly turned him off, possibly forever, he thought.

He walked as quickly as he could muster past the pet shops and ice cream vendors, still closed this early in the day. It was only ten and they would be allowed access to the shops and town until the sun started to dip. The sixth year Gryffindor made his way past a dozen shop windows filled with useless gadgets, candies, and quidditch paraphernalia frowning at the children who were likely his own age.

He made a right into one of the back streets filled with more practical purchases. Usually frequented by residents of the settlement, the students rarely needed anything other than amusement. Harry entered the little dusty shop and was greeted by the tinkling of a bell. He saw no racks or stacks of clothing and was nervous. A small voice called from the back of the shop.

"Just a second." Harry sighed and moved to sit on one of the chairs.

A small old woman greeted him a moment later, her hair was silvery and pulled into a bun, her robes were stately blue velvet. She motioned for him to stand on the dais in front of the mirrors.

"Well, who am I helping dress today?"

"Harry." He mumbled.

"Well Harry my name is Ms. Colbem and I am wondering what you are in need of today, are you paying in cash or are we charging your account today?" She said while picking through a basket of supplies.

"We are charging to the Potter main vault 312 ma'am. I would like a new set of school robes, as well as blue, green, and black dress robes. I would like a full set of everyday robes in whatever fabrics you think are appropriate. I was also wondering if you made trousers, jeans, and button downs?" She nodded at him before pulling out her wand.

"That won't be a problem; I am guessing you would want new under things, socks, and shoes as well? I don't make the shoes unfortunately but I can have several sets floo'ed here this morning. What size do you were Mr. Potter?" She looked at him narrowly, going back to digging through her basket.

"I'm not sure ma'am I haven't gotten any new robes since my first year, and the clothes are my cousins." He said quietly and she nodded at him emphatically.

"You would be surprised Mr. Potter how often I hear of such things. I am guessing this change came from you coming into your Majority. Now stand still and I am going to have to ask you to remove your clothing, down to your skivvies, so that I might get an accurate measure." Harry looked about nervously. He eyed the door. She chuckled lightly and pointed her wand at the front of the shop, blinds pulled down and the sign on the door flipped to say closed.

"Better?" Harry shrugged and started to remove his clothes as she bustled about grabbing fabric swatches and thread. He stood still as the measuring tape broke down his every feature, and he wanted to smack it away as it circled his waist.

"Dear," the seamstress stopped, "you are thin. I should think eating at that school would put meat on any child's bones. No matter. We will be at this a little while, I'm going to order lunch in a little bit. Anything you want? Don't say you don't want anything either, I won't let my faithful customers go hungry."

"Maybe a bit of soup would be good?" Harry asked unsure of the old woman. Only Mrs. Weasley ever took to him so fast, she seemed like a nice old lady but the kindness was unexpected and threw him for a loop.

She held several swatches up to the boys face, and finally the measuring ceased. She waved her wand and several patterns were cut out as well as the fabrics. They floated his way and were held up, trimmed again and pinned. She sewed up one set before calling through the floo for several pairs of shoes. A gruff old voice was heard and hand came through the networks handing shoes off to the old seamstress. She thanked him and ended the call only to throw more powder in and calling through to a small restaurant down the street. The order was made, and as several more sets of robes were held up and pinned a knock was heard at the door.

They ate slowly, enjoying the easy conversation and hot tea. Harry took his plain. His soup was good, he just hoped it was low calorie as he knew he would be in the shop too long to purge. He ate slowly and chewed everything twice as long as he normally would. Ms. Colbem, or Vira as she told him to call her around one in the afternoon, was a sweet woman and was soon done with several outfits. Harry would never get over the ease of life magic offered.

She helped him dress in a royal blue button down and dark wash jeans after his trip behind a curtain to change his under things. She offered a bin to throw his clothes into. They turned to ash at the bottom and Harry sighed in relief. He slipped on the black socks and dark gray trainers. He sat up and Vira suggested he roll his sleeves to his elbows and slipped a slick black robe over his shoulders. He straightened his braid and looked into the mirror.

He finally felt like himself, he finally felt like a human being. The slim lines accentuated his form rather than mutating it. He left the shop with a hearty hug which he stiffened in and a promise to return whenever he had need of anything. She expressed her joy at having dressed him, and assured him the rest of his clothing would arrive the next morning.

Harry walked out of the shop and tried to avoid the other students as he made his way back to the carriages. He passed a beauty supply shop and stopped in. He bought a few items to add texture to his hair and give him control, as well as a refill on his body wash and shampoo. He left with a small bag and stepped onto the carriage only briefly catching his professors eye as he settled in. His return to Hogwarts was only accompanied by one other buggy, it was a slow bumpy ride and Harry breathed deeply of the Autumn air. Luna and Neville entered the castle to his left and they blushed as he smiled at them.

"You look nice Harry; Neville recently visited Mr. Colbem as well." Luna Lovegood smiled dreamily and hugged Neville's arm close to her side and they disappeared to the other side of the stairs to the Ravenclaw dormitories.

Harry walked up the flights of stairs feeling better than he had all week. HE wondered briefly if the soup had anything to do with it. He sighed again thinking on his trip. He made it all of the way to his bed and had packed away his new items before the dark gaze of Severus Snape passed over his thoughts. The raven hairs boy looked around before closing the curtains around his bed casting silencing charms and locking enchantments on his curtains.


	5. Good Day

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

**Beautiful Hurts**

It hurts to be thin, it hurts to pretend, and it hurts to smile with loose teeth. Triggering. Eventually HP/SS

Harry spent the rest of his weekend wrapped in blankets sweating and chilled. Dreams and nightmares haunted the scant hours of consciousness. He twisted away from the phantoms of memory and arched toward the touch of dreams. Upon waking he would spend a few hours talking about nonsense with Ron and Hermione. Anxious as he was to return to dreams of dark eyes and strong agile hands he feared sleep which also brought with it hands of a different nature.

He woke Monday morning at five. Hand found hip bones and collar bones and pressed. He felt skin pull around ligaments and muscle. The young Potter donned a jacket and made his way out of his dorm and down to the kitchens for cold water and a banana. He left after thanking the Elves and started his trek further down into the dungeon. The morning chill made him zip the jacket up and he walked faster to warm his body. He made his way past the Slytherin common rooms and past his Potion Professor's quarters before he started to tire. He made it two floors below this into the bowels of the castle before turning around and heading back up.

His hair was wet with sweat before he made it back to Gryffindor tower. He peeled his pajamas and sweat slicked shirt off and threw them into the hamper. Harry started the shower. Hot water hit his clammy skin and he sighed.

The brunette spent a long time just standing under the hot water. He ran his hands over bones and invisible bruises and frowned. He grabbed the soap and slicked his hands with the body wash before scrubbing at his skin. He tugged and pulled at his skin until it was red and abraded small pin pricks of blood pulled up to the surface, hands coming away pink from clear skin. Lockhart's laughter ricocheted thru his skull until he was sure every bit of skin was scoured clean. Lockhart's chuckles morphed and faded as he washed his hair.

Young boney fingers carded through the black and burgundy silk. He rinsed the soap and enjoyed the weight of his hair at the back of his skull. His thoughts took a distinctively different turn as he imagined.

Bone thin, strong and muscled hands grasped at his hair and pulled his head backwards. The ghost hands were soon joined by the ghost mouth on his neck, and voice in his ear. His cock was grasped in his hand and he pulled almost painfully holding hard and pulsing in his grip. The voice splattered expletives and filthy fantasy across brain and body. Harry was a willing canvas.

When his imagination supplied a husky "Now Mr. Potter" the boy bit his lips and groaned as he came across the shower wall. He washed away his shame from the wall but it remained in his mind. How could he still want a man when they had hurt him so badly.

_There is something wrong with me. I must be some sick pervert. _He slid down onto his knees in the now cold stream. Tears mingled with water and pricks of blood in the drain. By the time he stood to leave his hands were purpling and felt like rubber. Cold and numb, inside and out, Harry stood in front of the mirror and looked at the stranger his spells had created, exhausted and blurry. He knew today he needed to eat something, too many had heard Hermione's exclamations the other morning. It was not the best start to his day. Harry was determined to make it a good day.

Harry brushed his drying hair out and braided it for the day, loose curls mingled at the bottom.

It was almost seven in the morning when he finished his shower and dressed. He tightened his tie as the other boy's alarm spells started to chime and scream. Harry grimaced at the cacophony of noise. He grabbed his satchel and made his way back out of the dormitory, not a word spoken to his friends. The Gryffindor reached the great hall, took a seat and proceeded to pick fruits from the bowls on the table before sitting at a plate. He took his fork and knife and carved up the bounty into tiny bites. He took several bites of everything, ignoring the queasiness that grabbed at his stomach. He ate slowly and chewed everything thoroughly.

"Why don't you just drink a smoothie Harry, it would surely be faster." Hermione stated with a half smile. Harry smirked, trying to ignore the anger.

"Well, you know me Hermione, always the hard road." She grinned and Harry relaxed.

Harry had made it through several strawberries, an orange and some other odd looking fruits before he felt full to bursting. He sipped at water while his companions bantered. He felt tired as he made his way to class in the green house.

"Geez Harry what are you so tired for, you slept all of yesterday?" Harry looked over his hand, which had come up to cover a yawn.

"Don't know mate, guess it's just the weather." Harry was glad for the chilly, cloudy, morning. How do you explain to someone about being tired all of the time, without them thinking something was wrong? How do you tell them you walk for hours just to forget?

Today was a good day so far. Today was going to be a good day, Harry was determined. He sipped on the water slowly. The greasy eggs and bangers hanging out of his friends' mouth were making him queasy again. He turned to look at the head table avoiding the rows of classmates shoving their faces full and laughing carelessly.

_It must be nice._

Harry shivered when his eyes met with the Potions Master. He frowned at the odd look on the professor's face and turned away. Without much of a word to his friends he packed up his books and started toward Astrology.

Hermione watched him go with an odd glare up at her teachers before following Ron stumbled in her wake.

Astrology went by quietly, they were observing artificial constellations in a classroom; studying for a test the following week. Sinistra droned on in her Scottish lilt. Harry's hand cramped at the speed of note taking. Hermione was blessedly silent and Ron could be ignored easily in this setting. They exited the class and hurried along to charms. Harry was happy when he heard they were pairing up. He was annoyed it was Malfoy.

Today was a review of dueling along with practice using their other hand. Harry was accused of cheating a couple of times by the Slytherin. He didn't want to explain that previous broken, sprained, or fractured bones in his right arm were the cause for his ease with his left hand. He was a little surprised that Draco was just as good. Harry supposed that the other boy was looking for an easy victory with today's topic. They were allowed to leave early due to their performance. Harry left quickly not anxious to meet up with his fellow Gryffindors on his way to the kitchens.

The boy who lived sipped chicken broth slowly, and nibbled at a piece of garlic toast. He was determined this was going to be a good day. He hurried to the bathroom when his stomach ultimately revolted against the idea of two meals in one day. His eyes burned treacherously with tears as he folded over the sink, his body wracked with heaves and trembling. Red eyed and sick sticking to his mouth he saw a familiar smirk fading from Malfoy's mouth as he walked into the bathroom eyeing Potter looking like hell. Harry glanced back into the mirror and was horrified that his glamours had fallen.

He had to catch Draco. The blond was hurry in the opposite direction toward the dungeon. The Harry's horror they were headed toward the Slytherin head of house, who was standing at the entrance to his lab as a first year class left in terrified groups. The professor looked imposing, tall, and intimidating as the other boy whispered into his ear. The look he gave harry was one that rooted him to the spot. Unreadable, terrible, and wonderful, Harry shivered at the smolder of something unnamable directed at him in that dark gaze.

"Potter, get in my office if you please." Draco looked sheepishly at the brunette and back at his head of house.

_Really this is the fucking time he grows a heart?_


End file.
